Bittersweet Baby

Chapter 3

"Where are you going today, Baekhyun?" asked Chanyeol somewhat-professionally as the smaller male reached for his coat.

"For a drive."

"Shall I call the chauffer?"

"You're not a servant, you don't do those things. I'm driving."

That was that.

Chanyeol didn't miss, though didn't pay any mind to, the sleek black gun tucked stealthily in Baekhyun's waistband. It was always there, though Chanyeol had never seen him use it.

Baekhyun owned a 1969 Chevrolet Camaro in black-a sleek car, one that was all business and somehow fit Baekhyun's personality. They crossed through the garage past a Mercedes and a Porsche and Chanyeol somewhat-begrudgingly plopped into the passenger seat as Baekhyun took the wheel and opened the garage door, rolling the car down the driveway and out of the lot.

Their drive took them around Seoul's busier streets, more on the outskirts and towards the suburb neighborhoods. Chanyeol continuously stole glances at Baekhyun out of the corner of his eye; Baekhyun's slim jawline, the way his jaw occasionally tensed, his observant, sharp eyes watching the scenery emotionlessly. The boy's slim hands curled softly around the thin steering wheel, those pinkish-pale, long fingers and the way they moved and curled as he turned a corner-

A siren began to wail agitatedly from behind the two, a black car turning the corner after them. Alarm immediately leapt up into Chanyeol's throat, his hand creeping to the gun under his leather jacket. He noticed Baekhyun's eyes flickering to the rearview mirror, glinting with suspicion. It wasn't a police car, but it wasn't something benign. Whether it was the police, the government, or their mafia's adversaries, this wasn't going to go over easy. That was just a given. Chanyeol's eyes flickered between the car tailing them and Baekhyun, protectiveness gathering in a clump in his gut.

Baekhyun slowed the Camaro and pulled off to the side of the relatively empty backstreet, not meeting Chanyeol's gaze as the taller man got ready to step out. Baekhyun reached for his door handle too but Chanyeol, quick like a viper, caught the smaller's chest under his palm, stopping him.

"No," he muttered.

Baekhyun's eyes burned, narrowed with offense, but he relented and sat back into the seat, staring into the mirror.

Chanyeol nodded and slunk out of the car and into the acidic city air. His eyes immediately locked onto two suit-clad men in black exiting the car behind them, pinning their coats together at their abdomens and approaching in long strides.

Chanyeol closed his door and paced casually towards them, meeting halfway. "Can I help you with something, sirs?" he asked, feigning offhandedness of speech.

"Yes," one said as they came to a halt. "We'd like to see the driver of your vehicle."

Chanyeol shrugged. "Why?"

"He was speeding."

"You have identification?"

There was a hesitation. Then both men reached behind them for their pockets, but Chanyeol's hand instinctively whipped to his belt holster.

Good thing too.

There was a guttural shout as all three men drew their weapons. A shot was fired. Then two more. One of the suited men went down. People screamed behind them. Chanyeol dove between the two parked cars as the other tumbled behind a trash bin. He raised his head and arm and fired, then ducked again. Two more bullets ricocheted off of the Camaro's bumper.

"Fuck," hissed Chanyeol.

The next time he lifted his body a fist was there to greet his face.

He took the hit lightly, whipping the other man's arm out of the way with a Tai Chi sweep of his wrist. Chanyeol jumped off of his knees and dodged two blows, grappling onto the other man's arms. They brawled lightly, skills meeting par but ultimately all those hours of weightlifting on Chanyeol's part paid off. He was stronger. He was about to throw the other man down when the sound of a slamming car door echoed through the tight street, and Baekhyun's course voice,

"Chanyeol look out!"

At the last second his hands lashed out to stop a flying kick his way, this from a new goony come for a fight. Chanyeol berated between the two opponents, grunting with every few hits and blocks. A third man entered the street. Chanyeol wanted to scream at Baekhyun to "get back in the car!" He took an unexpected blow to his gut and sucked in his breath to stay standing, ripping his arm out of the man's grasp and back stepping to avoid a kick from the other. He grabbed the collar of one of the men's suits with his arm outstretched, and with the second hand holding the gun he swung his fist beneath his other elbow and fired under his armpit at the second. The man fell. A fourth black-dressed man entered the scene.

The man Chanyeol held by his coat got an elbow to the throat and collapsed, his head slamming on the tough hood of the car. Chanyeol whipped around intensely, his eyes skimming over the site in split-second evaluation. The single civilian on the street was sprinting away. Baekhyun looked like he was about to turn back to the car to drive away: to do as he had always been told and save himself, the Boss' son. But his eyes locked with Chanyeol's for a moment and a clear hesitation stole the moment.

Then two other things clicked into place: a man's fist was jerking towards Chanyeol, glinting knife in hand, and the fourth man who had stepped in had a gun pointed at Baekhyun's head.

"Baekhyun!" Chanyeol screeched as he distractedly blocked the first knife blow. Baekhyun, steely faced, whirled around and took a punch to the face from the man with the gun, tumbling down. But before the other man could pull the trigger point-blank into Baekhyun's nose the smaller, with the face of a lion, whisked out his own pistol from his waistband and shot.

The knife scraped Chanyeol's cheek. He shouted and cleared the man's limbs away from his own, planting a foot in his abdomen. Another swipe of the knife at his gut and Chanyeol jumped backwards only to turn in a circle and roundhouse-kick the other man's head, effectively plowing him over.

Off to the side Baekhyun swore, padding his finger along his mouth. "Ah shit..."

Chanyeol instantly pounced to the smaller, kneeling beside him. Concern wound like a poisonous rose vine around his heart-his eyes did a quick once-over of Baekhyun's body as he reached out to support him, but the only wound seemed to be the rapidly bruising cut on his lip. "Baekhyun-!"

"Stop Chanyeol we have to go," the smaller hissed, pushing up off the ground and quickly sidling up to the car, stumbling once. He reached for the passenger door and Chanyeol understood that he wanted his guard to drive, not saying anything as they took their seats...

But as soon as Chanyeol began driving the questions spilled as he glanced to Baekhyun and back to the road with every little dispute. "Are you hurt? How's your lip? Is it bleeding? Do you need first aid? Are you hurt anywhere else? I saw you take a hit. I'll pull over if-"

"Keep driving," Baekhyun grunted through clenched teeth. "I'm dizzy. Just go to the Cho Gale."

After hearing this Chanyeol switched into the left lane, ready to turn at the stoplight. The traffic now had picked up, already on its swing into the day's toils. "Why the Cho Gale? Is there a meeting? Who's going to be there? I thought we were just going for a drive."

Chanyeol realized his mistake in this sentence as he said it-they weren't going for a drive, Baekhyun was. Chanyeol was just obligated to tag along. What he had said was an insinuation that he and Baekhyun were...well...doing things together. It may not have seemed like such a big deal, but it was recognizable. Chanyeol and Baekhyun weren't doing things together, like going for drives. That simply wasn't true. They weren't friends. Chanyeol was just his guard.

Baekhyun noticed too and glanced over, but then looked back out the windshield. "I have a bad feeling about this." He sighed and pulled his hand away from his swelling lip. "We'll find someone there."

Confusion welled in Chanyeol. He quirked his lips to the side in thought, then said nonchalantly, "But stuff like this happens all the time to you. What could be bad?"

Baekhyun's voice was authoritative. "Just drive."